


You've Never Seen a Breakup Quite Like This (aka Civil War)

by jayisgayasaurus



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Civil War Fix-It, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Tony Angst, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Touch-Starved, no one is a bad guy and everyone is hurt, there will be sex eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-06-10 08:13:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6947065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayisgayasaurus/pseuds/jayisgayasaurus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of Tony reacting like how Zemo predicted he would, he has the opposite reaction and, instead, loses control of his emotions. But he's still trying to fix things, because that's all he's good for and all that he knows how to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Tony Feels A Lot of Guilt

Tony watched the brainwashed super soldier choke his mother to death, on the tiny screen, looking terribly emotionless. He was overwhelmed with emotion, on the other hand, and his eyes welled with tears. There was too much silence surrounding him, and he knew what was expected. The bad guy had planned this with so much precision and he knew that Tony would take out his sorrow on the man responsible for his parents’ death.

The Russian had watched them for months; studying them and understanding who they were, at their very core. However, Tony was extremely good at hiding who he was at his core.

“Tony?” Steve finally said, wariness in his voice, because obviously Steve thought he knew the billionaire as well. The emotionless, volatile, billionaire whore. The man that cared for no one except for himself.

Tony knew what everyone expected him to do. They expected him to turn on his best friend and his best friend’s actual best friend, Captain America and the Winter Soldier, after he had finally decided that, yes, he was in the wrong. He was supposed to pummel them into dust and leave them to rot, and he noticed how Steve raised his shield and Bucky raised his gun.

However, luckily for him, the bad guy had already left, not even man enough to stick around for the shit-show he had hoped to start. Tears cascaded down his cheeks and he hit a button that slowly revoked his Iron Man armor into the palm of his hand. His heart was beginning to beat so fast and unevenly, aching in his chest, and he no longer knew if it was Extremis or just his overwhelming sadness.

Steve’s face slowly crumpled as he watched Tony sob, because no one expected this reaction. The man was as vulnerable as he could be, without his suit and with his face twisted in anguish. “Tony…” he trailed off, reaching one hand out to the man in an attempt to comfort him, because he couldn’t handle this display of emotion. Anger was easy to deal with; he could understand if Tony leapt at Bucky with bloodthirsty eyes. This, however, was something else entirely.

“Don’t touch me,” he said, gasping as he jerked away from Steve’s hand, stumbling backwards in the process. His eyes were clouded with tears and he hiccupped gently.

Foolishly, Tony thought his glasses may have worked, that he had dealt with his parents’ death, but he hadn’t. He was still emotionally wrecked and damaged and an idiot. He was a fool for being so hung-up on something that had happened so long ago. But he was sixteen when they left him; he was too young to be ready to say goodbye. Never mind how awful his father had been to him; his mother had been the light at the end of the endless, pitch black tunnel. When he cried to her on their weekly phone calls, because the people at MIT were endlessly bullying him, she had always been there for him. She drove out once a month to take him out to eat at his favorite restaurant; she was there for every award he received, every science show he entered, every project that was presented in front of thousands of his fellow classmates.

“Put your suit back on, Tony. You’re too vulnerable like this. We don’t know what Zemo is doing or if he plans on returning,” Steve urged, soft and gentle, concern clear in his voice as he watched Tony breakdown right before his eyes.

Tony backed up a step too far, tripping over a hunk of machinery and tumbling backwards. He felt a strong, metal hand wrapped around his wrist, gasping in shock, but he quickly grabbed onto it, instinctually saving himself from the fall. He let Bucky pull him back up to his feet, trying his damnedest to compose himself.

He was overly distraught, though, and his brain wasn’t functioning properly. He was consumed with the sad fact that his parents were dead and he had been nothing but a shitty son for them. Of course, he liked to blame his father’s abuse for his shitty actions, but only victims used their abuse for an excuse. He was simply a shitty person and a shitty son, and he hadn’t had the decency to tell his mother and father that he loved them before they left to face their death.

Tony took a deep breath, shaking his head as he ran his fingers roughly through his hair before rubbing the tears from his face. This wasn’t the way for a grown man to be acting in the middle of a war; much less a war that he had started, with the two people standing in front of him.

“I’m sorry it had to happen like this, Tony. You didn’t deserve to have that shoved in your face,” Steve said softly to the man, trying to soothe him. His eyebrows were drawn down, obviously concerned and feeling distraught because of the man’s pain. Despite all that they had gone through, Tony had come back around to him in some way, and it was painful to witness his friend’s pain. “Put your suit back on and let’s kick his ass, alright?” he encouraged with the slightest of smiles.

Closing his eyes tight, he tapped his fingers on the interface on his wrist and his body was slowly encompassed by his suit of armor. The tears were done for now but he could feel how they were just barely being held at bay. “Let’s go kick some ass, Cap,” he agreed, putting on his bravest voice possible.

However, the fight was not necessary. T’Challa had already subdued Zemo and all Tony had to do was restrain him with his super-strength cuffs and fly him back to SHEILD HQ. He told Steve and Bucky to lay low until he had the chance to make a clean slate for them in order to return without being arrested.

After all of Zemo’s wrongdoings were put out into the open and those in charge understood what was going on, they agreed to wipe their slates clean- for all of the Avengers plus friends. However, Bucky brought up a bigger issue, but Tony managed to convince the head honchos in charge that Winter Soldier and Bucky were two entirely different people, explaining the words in the notebook that activated the soldier when said in sequence. They finally met halfway in an agreement, where Bucky would have a proper psyche evaluation, not under lock and key, but in a therapist’s office like any other civilian who had been through the things he had gone through.

When it was finally time to call Steve up and share this information with him, however, Tony felt himself choking on his words as Steve picked up the phone with a swift, “Tony? What’s happened? Are they still planning to arrest Bucky?”

Part of him wished that Steve had, at least once, shown as much care for Tony as he was for Bucky, in this moment. But that was selfish and, despite everyone’s certainty that he was a selfish person, he was trying to do the _right thing_. He was always trying to do the _right thing_ , but it was never the right thing for everybody, and that is what broke his heart.

Tony explained the situation in its entirety and Steve actually had the decency to sound appreciative when he thanked Tony, promising to be home soon. Home, Steve called it. What was he referring to? The Avengers’ compound or the bed they had shared once upon a time? After all, how could their relationship survive this mess?

Bucky had returned, Steve’s first and only boyfriend before Tony, and Tony, his second and current (debatable) boyfriend, had started a war with him. This was perhaps the most spectacular end to a relationship that Tony could have possibly conceived in his wild imagination. Of course, he had thought often about how their relationship would end, and it had always been Tony’s fault in one way or another, but this was something beyond anything he had ever imagined. And Tony constantly considered which way he would fuck up next.

When Steve and Bucky turned up at his mansion, most of the Avengers were there, looking to Tony expectantly. Things had begun to settle down between the two sides, especially after Tony had managed to spring them out of their underwater prison. But this was something else entirely. Steve had walked out of the elevator, into the common area, with Bucky under his arm. They were smiling.

Tony felt his heart clench and he turned away from the best friends ( _lovebirds_ , his mind supplied). “Steve, you know where your floor is. Will I need to set up a guest bedroom for your _friend_?” he asked, clear sarcasm in his voice- questioning if his pal would be staying in Steve’s room or not.

“Tony-“ Steve began, but the second he heard his name Tony was gone.

It had been perhaps a little unnecessary to say but that could be said about everything that came out of Tony’s mouth. His lack of filter was iconic and most people knew him for saying exactly what he thought.

Except that only applied to the stuff that he really wanted to say. If there was something he didn’t want to say, then it wasn’t being said; such as the “I hate you but I still love you” line that he wanted to shove in Steve Roger’s face.

Escaping to his sanctuary, Tony sighed as he plopped down at his work table, staring at the bits and pieces of hardware scattered around, along with papers that were most likely very important- to Pepper at least. He sank into his chair, shoulders slumped, trying to imagine a perfect world where he wasn’t a massive fuck-up.

Tony tiredly rubbed his eyelids into his eyes, watching the colors burst. He sat up straight in his chair, calling up plans for the next version of his Stark Phone, and beginning to tweak it so that it’s more like the newer version of the iPhone except a million times more awesome. The fat, rich honchos in that fund Stark Industries who are always breathing down Pepper’s neck, thus forcing her to breathe down Tony’s neck.

The metaphorical imagery sent chills down Tony’s spine and his breath caught in his throat. He craved the feeling of someone- someone who loved him- so close that he might feel their breath on his skin.

Tony refrained from vocally reprimanding himself for the creepy thought but he couldn’t help it. He was starved for physical touch and the reminder that someone cared for him.


	2. In Which Rhodey and Pepper are Rightfully Concerned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why did this take so long to produce? No idea. But here it is.

It was his fifth day, cut off from civilization. Down in his workshop, locking himself in and everyone else out, he was free to do as he pleased. This mostly included cranking out new technologies, but occasionally called for bouts of extreme anxiety and depression, culminating in a large panic attack. Each one made him feel closer to death than the last. He wasn’t eating, despite the food he found sitting outside of his door; it never came at exact times, despite how hard he tried to open the doors exactly when he suspected the stranger was dropping off his meal.

Tony imagined opening the door at just the right moment to be met with the person who cared enough to not wish to see him dead. 

His lonely thoughts were cut off by FRIDAY. “James Rhodes fell while doing his PT and he hasn’t risen in a couple of minutes.”

It didn’t take a word more before Tony was up and jabbing at the gym floor’s number in the elevator. His stomach twisted, sickened with guilt, as he waited for the doors to slide open. The anticipation made his heart quicken, but a glance in the elevator’s mirror told him that he looked as impassive as ever; which was good, because he certainly didn’t want Rhodey to freak out on him if he looked overtly concerned.

Stepping calmly into the gym, he glanced around and eyed Rhodey, laying on the floor, on his back, staring up at the ceiling. The man’s eyes darted over to Tony, giving a slight smile.

“FRIDAY tell you I fell again?” he inquired, a slight amusement in his voice. It didn’t completely cover the pain and annoyance he clearly felt.

“Nah, just my Rhodey senses tingling,” Tony responded, walking over to his friend and plopping down onto the ground beside him. His eyes roamed over the man’s legs, supported by his own tech, trying to quickly examine the mechanics for failure.

Sighing, Rhodey pushed himself up to a sitting position. He looked over to his best friend and examined the dark circles beneath his eyes. His pleasant tan was slowly fading, replaced by a ghastly white from too little sunlight, and his cheekbones protruded a little too much. “You look like you’re in worse shape than me, and I’m partially paralyzed,” he prodded, reaching and shaking the man’s shoulder in comradery. “I know I haven’t seen you in a while but I figured I just kept missin’ you in this huge tower. Tell me you’ve at least left your workshop for an hour in the past week.”

Tony immediately defended himself. “It’s only been, like, five days, Rhodes. I’m okay,” he urged, shaking his head in disbelief. And, in comparison to everyone else, Tony was really okay. “Like you said, you’re the one who’s…” He trailed off, unable to say it for himself.

They sat in silence for a while before Tony broke it by standing up and offering Rhodey a hand. “C’mon, you lazy sack of bones. Either get back to your PT or I’m going to force you to test out my latest edition of my Stark phone so you can find all the glitches,” he warned with a slight smirk. It was easy to pretend like everything was okay with Rhodey.

The man rolled his eyes and took the offered hand, helping Tony haul himself to his feet.

After an hour of Tony walking alongside his best friend, helping him do the exercises the doctor prescribed (being there for him but not overbearing), Rhodey insisted that he was exhausted and gave the engineer a heavy hug. “It’s Friday, Tony. We’re ordering in and watching some dumb comedy in order to make things a little more like… before,” he said with an air of finality. “Be there, okay? Try, at least. You’re not the only one who made mistakes and, yet, you’re the only one punishing yourself.”

For some reason, that line really resonated with Tony. It stunned him for a moment before slowly shaking his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Rhodes. Who else would create technology for Stark Industries if not for me?” he said with his signature smirk and a shrug. “Catch you later.”

Tony left the gym with a different sort of anxiety, one that swished around in his stomach and made him feel the urge to empty it. In fact, shockingly enough, the urge became too strong and he rushed to empty his stomach of pure acid in the nearest wastebasket within his lab. Clutching at his abdomen, he heaved a couple of heavy breaths, confused. He hadn’t vomited while completely sober in so long that he couldn’t remember.

Slumping down into his seat, he relaxed heavily, allowing himself time to recover. He stared up at the ceiling as his brain began to slow and his eyes drooped shut.

Tony awoke slowly, confusion addling his mind. Blinking up at the ceiling, he groaned as he lifted his head, neck stiff from the awkward angle.

Checking his phone, he groaned softly. Of course, the best sleep he could get was when he passed out from exhaustion. As per usual, he slept a full nine hours while his body attempted to recharge. He had a couple missed texts and calls from Rhodey and Pepper, but he ignored them for the moment. It was nothing new that he disappointed his friends in one way or another and he could deal with that later.

Instead, he took a moment to assess his body. Everything ached and he still felt like shit despite the fantastic sleep. Because of that, he comes to a new conclusion; he wasn’t merely exhausted, he was sick and shaking from the familiar chill of a fever.  
That wasn’t new. Tony was used to becoming ill, given his poor habits, including but not limited to: drinking, not eating, and not sleeping.

He resolved to remain seated for as long as his mind will allow him to. A small, weak groan was forced through his lips when someone begins knocking at the door, insistent- almost pounding with quite a ferocity.  
Pepper.

“FRIDAY, open the door,” Tony muttered, eyelids firmly shut against reality.

“Certainly, sir.” The lock clicked audibly and the door was immediately shoved open.

“What do you think you’re doing? You usually have the decency to at least give me an excuse as to why you’re not at the meetings I tell you about a month in advance. You even missed a social gathering to promote our latest Stark Phone, at which there was plenty of booze to drown your boredom in. I had to get up there and lie to all of our investors about how you were bed-ridden with the flu and do my damnedest to bs my way through a speech about a product that I know nothing about,” Pepper ranted, raining hell upon Tony at top speed the second she stepped   
over the threshold.

Tony swallowed each groan that threatened to fall out of his mouth, eyes squeezing shut. “You may have inadvertently told the truth,” he said quietly, voice gruff, in the lull of her rant. He could almost sense it when Pepper softened up.

“Great, you dummy. Get so sick that you can’t even drag your ass to bed,” she muttered with an air of faux annoyance, but her voice was too soft for her to truly be annoyed.

“Not a dummy. ’m a genius,” he said defensively, attempting to open his eyes and whining softly as the light made his head throb.

Pepper sidled up to his chair, gently placing a hand on his forehead, feeling for a temperature in a way that painfully reminded him of his mother. The other hand rested on his shoulder, stroking gently along his upper arm.

It took a lot to hold back the moan of need for this sort of touch. Instead, he shifted his body into the touch. It was supposed to be a smooth, imperceptible movement, but his aching body was full of betrayal and lethargic, jerky movements.  
Pepper’s hand moved to thread through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead, indulging him and his neediness. They had been together for some time; she knew how he was when he got sick.

But she didn’t know how intensely he needed touch. Tony truly hadn’t expected it to come from his ex-girlfriend/acting CEO for his company.

“Definitely burning up. You need to get into bed,” she said, her tone soft and gently urging.

The last thing Tony wanted to do was move away from her touch. Pepper’s hand was so warm on his forehead and it made any words he planned to say catch in his throat.

“C’mon, I’ll bring you some Tylenol. Up we go,” she insisted, pulling out his chair from beneath the desk and dragging his lifeless arm up and around her shoulders. There was a surprising amount of strength in the way she maneuvered his body.

He tucked his face into her neck, doing his best to pick up his feet, one after the other. The ride up to the penthouse was lengthy while his entire body throbbed, but Pepper didn’t stop threading her fingers through his hair, and Tony couldn’t stop the contented sighs as he took and took and took from her natural body heat.

Despite how much Tony wanted to remain awake, mere seconds passed after Pepper put him in bed when he drifted off to sleep. He was barely conscious when he thanked her for everything and she shushed him, urging him to sleep, dragging the covers up to his neck.


	3. In which Tony Pushes People Away

The worst part about being Tony Stark was all of the politics involved.

At one point in his life, he had been certain that it was the constant media coverage, slander, and nosiness. How naïve he had been. He could only wish to return to that state.

While medicated beyond belief, Tony was doing his best to deal with Secretary Ross. Despite striking a deal over the handling of the Winter Soldier and cleansing the records of his friends, that was nowhere near the end of things.

Ross insisted that Tony make a statement about the entire ordeal as soon as possible. “I’m not here to babysit you, Stark. I’ll cover your ass but you’ve gotta show it first. The public is furious and confused and we need to soothe them before it gets out of hand.”

“They’re furious because of you, I might add. Meanwhile, Stark Industries leaps into a tax bracket of its own,” he sassed, with the phone on speaker and a cool rag draped over his forehead. “Give me a time and place and I’ll talk to all the reporters you can throw at me, Ross. You know how great I am with them.”

“Listen here, Stark. If I’m going to be kissing your feet and answering to your every beck and call, you’re going to do a thing or two for me. I’m going to write your teleprompter and you’re going to read off every single word, in order, or I swear I’ll make your life hell,” Ross threatened.

Tony thought that he could hear it as the secretary’s face turned red with anger. It didn’t seem like it, but he knew a thing or two about backing off when it was necessary to back off; whether or not he chose to accept such knowledge was another story entirely.

This time, however, he bit his tongue. Sort of. “Well, just call yourself a ventriloquist.”

“You’re a pricey puppet and one that really isn’t worth my time.” Ross gave the details of the interview time and place, sounding significantly less stressed.

Tony tossed his phone towards the end of his bed, sighing and relaxing heavily into his pillows. He knew that the government didn’t want the worst for the heroes, but they did expect obedience- and following the law. It was times like these when Tony was acutely aware of the influence and leeway he was given because of his status and the pull that he had within society. It was unfair to the rest of the world, but Tony, honestly, cared more about the people that he loved rather than a bunch of strangers.

Selfish, that’s what Tony was. It wasn’t that he cared about the Avengers, rather he was selfish and liked to buy their friendship so that he wouldn’t be lonely.

He groaned when his cell phone buzzed. Forcing himself to crawl down to the end of his bed, Tony flicked open the text and his heart stopped.  
Steve: Tony, I need you. Please.

With medication lowering his inhibitions, Tony leapt from bed and fluttered about for his clothes. Boxer shorts were not going to cut it when it came to seeing his boyfriend- ex-boyfriend.

The second worst part about being Tony Stark was that money could buy him whatever he wanted. Including, but not limited to, hospital-grade medicine.

He hopped around, doing his best to get into a pair of jeans with his shirt covering his eyes, halfway through putting it on.

Why would Steve need him? That was the top query in his mind. Was it a sexual need, an emotional one? Did Steve need his touch just as much as Tony needed his?

Fully dressed, Tony left his penthouse for the first time since Pepper took him there. The elevator took him down to Steve’s room, assuming that it was where he would find the super soldier, and he wasn’t exactly wrong.

Bucky Barnes sat on Steve’s bed, slowly curling his metal fingers, although it looked like it required a great amount of effort with few results. There was a strange whirring sound coming from the mechanics of his arm and Tony could almost hear the electronics frying.

Tony wasn’t able to stand, unnoticed, for long. Soon enough, the Winter Soldier’s eyes met his own, and Steve entered his line of sight soon after, before words could be shared.

“Tony,” Steve exhaled, like the breath had been knocked out of him. “I’m glad you came. Bucky, he-“

“The arm’s malfunctioning. Circuitry hasn’t received proper evaluation in weeks now. You’re no longer receiving treatment so your body is probably rejecting the foreign substance they’ve wired into your nerves and your bones. I can only imagine how painful it is,” he stated methodically, cutting Steve off. He rubbed at his eyes and heaved a sigh.

Tony knew what that sinking feeling was in his stomach; he had gotten his hopes up. He had imagined Steve groveling and begging for him to forgive him, to take him back. No, he didn’t need his forgiveness, much less deserve it. But these were his private thoughts and he could think whatever he wanted to.

Bucky’s eyes shifted to Steve, like Tony had just outed him on some secret. “Are you in pain?” Steve asked, almost like a father admonishing his child.

“Save the spanking for when I leave,” Tony bit, waving his hand dismissively. “I’m not a biologist. I can fix your arm all day long but we’re going to need Bruce or Dr. Cho for everything else. I’ll prepare some plans in my workshop and will let you know when I’m ready.”

He turned to leave and had made it to the elevator before he heard footsteps hurrying to catch up with him. “Tony,” Steve called, reaching out to clasp a hand on his shoulder.

It may have been brusque and unnecessary, but Tony brushed his hand off with force behind the action. “Yes, Captain?” he asked, turning to look him dead in the eye. His headache was slowly returning and he wasn’t sure if it was due to the medication wearing off or something else entirely.

Steve looked appropriately shamed, at the very least. “I didn’t just text you to look after Bucky. I wanted to talk to you,” he said, caressing the hand that had been brushed off Tony’s shoulder as if it burned.

“Is that so?” He cocked his head to the side, eyebrows raised in mock surprise. “Well, color me surprised. What could the dear Captain wish to speak with me about? Better accommodations for him and his lover? How about a honeymoon suite? Would that suit the newlyweds?” he said, rapid-fire with his snark.

That lit a fire in Steve’s eyes. “What sort of nonsense are you talking about, Tony? Bucky is my best friend and I’m trying to take care of him when he needs me the most. What aren’t you understanding?”

There was no sort of denial in his words and Tony could only take it as a confirmation. “What do you want from me, then? I’m going to help you help him. Do you just want to see what you can drain from me? Perhaps, if you twist me hard enough, you’ll wring out a couple more apologies for shit that I’ve already apologized endlessly for?”

The elevator slid open behind him and Tony hurriedly turned around. “Workshop, FRIDAY,” he ordered abruptly. The doors slid shut immediately, a perk of having artificial intelligence operating his entire tower.

“Tony!” Steve urged, a crack in his voice, exasperation clear.

His eyes started to sting and water but he decided that it was merely because he was still sick. Down in his workshop, Tony had assumed that he would get a break from dealing with people. Of course, he was wrong.

“I entrust you with the passcode to my workshop and you go and betray me like this. What does my lab have that yours doesn’t, Bruce?” Tony queried, recognizing the mop of unruly brown hair and the broad shoulders beneath a crisp button-down. “Excluding my shining personality.”

Bruce turned around quickly, concern clear on his face. “Uh, I just, well.” He took a breath, steeling himself. “You haven’t been out in a while and I was concerned.”

Tony finally caught a whiff of something, inhaling deeper to discern what it was. “So, you’re the mystery food person,” he mused, a small smirk tugging at his lips. His heart jumped into his throat and he quickly swallowed it down.

Turning to showcase the food, Bruce glanced back at the plate and nodded sharply. “I mean, I mostly cook, but we take turns bringing it down,” he explained, almost bashfully.

“Thanks, Bruce,” he said softly, stepping forward to take the plate from his hands. His stomach roared, audible to even Bruce’s ears. “I’m starved,” he admitted, setting down at his workbench to eat. He brushed aside various tools to make room for the first solid food he had consumed in some time.

“I know,” Bruce responded, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

The response surprised Tony, but he took a moment to chew and swallow one of the roasted potatoes before replying. “You know? Have you added psychic abilities to your list of powers?”

“I’ve seen all the full plates you leave outside the door. You weren’t being sneaky, if that’s what you thought. You weren’t even trying to pretend like you were taking care of yourself,” Bruce admonished, waving his hands around as he spoke.

Tony at least had the decency to look mildly ashamed. “You know how things get down here. I lose track of time,” he attempted to explain, waving off the concern.

“No, I don’t know. You haven’t let anyone in in a long time, Tones.”

“I’m fine, Bruce. Jesus Christ, you act like I’m dying. I’m just doing my job,” he said, feeling an emotional bubble burst as the words poured from his mouth. A coughing fit interrupted him and he quickly covered his mouth with the crook of his arm. “Excuse me. I’m doing just fine. I appreciate the food, but I can take care of myself. You don’t need to keep doing this.”

Tony was bristling, but he was more like a lap dog than any ferocious beast. His hackles were raised but he had no bite, and he just wanted someone to stroke his fur flat.

Bruce sighed, shaking his head and glancing back towards the door. “We can’t keep fighting you, Tony. Especially not when it comes to your own wellbeing. You have to decide that you deserve to be healthy or we just can’t help you out.” He left with only the barest of glances towards the engineer.

Snorting, he jerkily turned back to his food and ate less enthusiastically than before. Tony slowed and stopped altogether once the door shut behind Bruce. The silence was overwhelming and he felt his illness creeping up on him again. Or maybe it was just the stress; stress from pushing people away and being pushed away.

Tony turned and vomited in the trash can, holding onto his rolling stomach. Moaning, he remained bent over for a longer period of time than necessary, barely able to support himself from completely falling limp.

The conference Ross wanted him at was two days from now. He could only hope that he felt more like a human being on that day. Tony had to do well, for he had only a small inkling of the power the man could yield over him.


End file.
